


Blue Blood

by TarvaBaggins



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29562411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TarvaBaggins/pseuds/TarvaBaggins
Summary: I don't know how to write a summary for this one.  Just...it's a DBH fic, I guess?
Relationships: Connor & Gavin Reed, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Gavin Reed, Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Gavin Reed





	Blue Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I censored the cussing. Old habits die hard.

SHUTDOWN IN 00:28:25…

…IN 00:28:24…

…IN 00:28:23…

Well, s___.

A passerby had called the police, and an ambulance for some reason, but with less than half an hour left in his clock, Conan realized that it was basically all over for him. He bit back the programmed “Please contact your nearest Cyberlife Center for repairs immediately” mantra that was trying to push through his deviancy.

G__, he had lost a lot of thirium. Apparently his assailant hadn’t deemed #8577 a scarce enough biocomponent on the black market to spare it because the bullet had entered squarely between Conan’s “collarbones”. Conan wondered if his voice would even work anymore.

He also wondered if the police would get there _before_ or _after_ he shut down.

…were those sirens or just the alarm in his own system?

* * * * *

“Oh f___,” Hank cursed. Nines was lying in a limp heap in the alley, surrounded by overturned trash cans and rain-damaged cardboard boxes and an alarmingly large pool of thirium. Was he missing a whole leg too?

Connor sprang forward and knelt down by Nines, his right hand gripping Nines’s forearm and doing that creepy android thing. It suddenly occurred to Hank that this must have been why Fowler had ordered Connor and Hank to go along too when the downed officer alert had come in. He took a few steps forward, not wanting to make Connor feel too pressured but…well, he was concerned, if he was being honest with himself.

“Connor,” Nines croaked.

S___, he sounded awful. But at least he was alive. Hank knelt down a pace or two behind Connor.

“How bad?”

“Pretty bad.” The android rolled his clone onto his back on the broken pavement.

Hank could see now that Nines was definitely missing a leg, the right one, from the knee down. Connor must have known Hank was looking at it; he didn’t even turn around as he commented, “That’s not the main concern; replacements are easy enough to find. It’s this,” he pointed to the bullet hole, “and this,” he indicated some damage done to Nines’s head and shoulders (had he been beaten with a bat??). “He’s in a sort of shock as well. Thirium levels at 74%, stress level at 89%. Both of those are bad,” he clarified when Hank didn’t reply. “Conan,” he went on immediately to the injured android, “I’m going to siphon some of my thirium into you to buy you some time.” Hank’s heart almost stopped.

“You’re _what_?”

Connor looked over his shoulder at Hank, half of the buttons on his shirt already undone. “It’s alright, Lieutenant,” he said in a steady, too-calm voice. “I won’t go below safe levels. He just needs enough to get him to the repair facility.”

Hank tried to ignore the lurching of his stomach, and he looked away to the bit of street and daylight he could see at the entrance to the alley. The alternating red and blue of the police lights helped him measure his breathing until the queasiness had passed.

F___ing android biology. On-site blood transfusion and all that s___. Freaky as f___.

At least Gavin wasn’t here. He wasn’t particularly sympathetic towards androids (which was kinda’ sick, considering that one was his work partner), and Hank couldn’t imagine that he would be any kind of helpful or encouraging in a situation like this.

* * * * *

F___.

F___ f___ f___ f___. F___ Fowler and the entire DPD. Nobody had told Gavin. Nobody ever told him f___ing anything.

He literally tumbled out onto the curb the moment the door opened.

“Thank you for using Detroit Taxis.”

F___ you, Detroit Taxis.

There was a cluster of police cars at the side of the road maybe 50 yards away, lights flashing. Gavin picked himself up off the ground and ran in that direction.

F___.

An officer turned at the sound of his footsteps and hooked an arm around his shoulders as he came to the perimeter, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m sorry, sir, you can’t go in.”

F___ you.

“I’m Detective Reed, DPD. That’s my partner in there.”

“Oh, of course,” the officer said, apparently recognizing him now. “Gavin, right?”

“Reed’s here? G__, as if things weren’t s____y enough already,” came a voice from somewhere to his right.

Hank?

The lieutenant was standing in the entryway to an alley. His hand was resting on the back of…f___, that was Conan. His entire shirtfront was stained a gorgeous blue color that glittered with the flashing of the police lights, and he was being half-carried by Hank’s android Connor. And…where was his other leg?

“Hello, Gavin,” said Conan. He sounded awful: his voice had a weird electronic sound to it, like a buzzing overtone.

“Nines, you look like s___!”

The android pulled himself up straighter. “You would know, wouldn’t you?” He tilted his head back almost haughtily as Gavin stumbled closer.

“Did you get shot in the _neck_?”

“Close, but not quite,” replied Conan in what was probably meant to be a cool tone.

“Are you missing a leg?”

Nines pushed Connor’s support away and shrugged Hank’s hand off his back. “Of course. But I can stand on my own.”

Not for long, apparently. Almost immediately his balance wavered and Gavin instinctively sprang forward.

S___, he was heavier than he looked. Gavin managed to sink into a sitting position on the ground in an almost-controlled way, noticing after a moment that Conan’s arms were wrapped tightly around him. A red light sputtered fitfully in his right peripheral and he realized that it was Conan’s LED; the android’s face was buried in Gavin’s shoulder and…he was shaking violently.

“Nines, are you _afraid_?” Gavin asked in disbelief.

“F___ing terrified, Gavin,” came Conan’s reply in that weird robotic tone. “I don’t want to die.” Gavin froze and his gaze shot up to where Anderson still stood.

“He’s dying?”

“Yeah, a______. Connor did everything he could but he was only able to buy him like fifteen more minutes.”

Conan’s grip tightened around Gavin’s shoulders and Gavin’s vision suddenly swam in horror. He heard his own voice shouting, “We need an android doctor in here _right_ f___ing now!” and vaguely felt Hank shaking him by the shoulder.

“That’s what we were doing when you came! Connor knows a place where they might be able to fix him.”

The words weren’t really registering in Gavin’s mind, which was currently entirely occupied with the strange new idea that he actually _cared_ what happened to this android. A lot.

Hank’s voice again: “Connor, take Nines, _now_.” Hank’s hands pulling Gavin’s arms out of the tight hold they had around Conan’s body—oh f___, he’d been hugging the android back—and then Conan gone. Gavin snapped out of his stupor in time to see Connor lifting Conan into the back seat of one of the patrol cars.

Hank had to hold Gavin back as the car shot away, siren wailing, and for a minute after that, until Gavin shook himself and tried to stand up. Hank didn’t let him.

“You alright?”

“What’s…going to happen now?” Gavin asked in an embarrassingly unsteady voice.

“Well, Connor will take him to the android hospital or whatever it is. And then we’ll find out what the android doc thinks can be done.” A couple of the regular cops had come up and were listening in on the conversation. A f___ing audience, just what Gavin needed right now. Gavin tried to stand up again and this time Hank didn’t stop him.

“What happened to him anyway?”

“As far as we can tell, he got shot in the chest and then beaten around the head with a bat or something. Then the guy started dismantling him for parts to sell on the black market. Connor says that there’s potential software damage from the bat, but he’s more worried about the gunshot wound because it hit an important biocomponent. I didn’t know you cared so much about him,” he added with an interested, almost sly, glance at Gavin.

S___.

“I mean…he’s my partner,” Gavin said lamely, “and I don’t want to have to…fill out the paperwork.”

Something salty crept in at the corner of Gavin’s mouth.

F___!! He’d forgotten that tears had a taste. Had he just been crying?

Oh…he was _still_ crying.

Well, f___.

“You know,” came a new voice in the conversation (one of the other cops), “even in a worst-case scenario all that can happen is that they have to send a replacement.”

“Oh is that all?” Gavin tried to ask, but he choked on a sob halfway through the “oh”. He hadn’t even considered the horrible idea that they would try to _replace_ Nines if they couldn’t repair him.

Hank dragged him away before he had a chance to punch the cop.

“Listen, Reed,” he said when they were alone again, standing on the curb. “You need to calm the f___ down. Even if it _does_ come to that, all Nines has to do is upload his memory to something, and then they can transfer those files to a new RK900 model, and there you go.”

“Really?” Gavin asked thickly.

“Yeah, trust me. It’s freaky as f___ but it’s basically like he never left. At least, he’ll try to tell you that. Now come on, we’ll catch a taxi back to the station and pick up my car, and then I’ll drive you back to your place or wherever.”

* * * * *

“I can handle it,” Gavin spat out as they walked through the doors of the DPD. “Stop patronizing me, Anderson. I can last the rest of the day.”

Well, it sure hadn’t taken long for Gavin to recover his stone heart. Back to work it was, then. Hank wasn’t going to let it get to him if Reed was an a______. At least it wasn’t _his_ partner that was dying.

A horrified look crossed the receptionist’s face when she saw them. Hank remembered that the thirium staining both of their clothes wouldn’t disappear for another few hours. Gavin in particular looked like a nightmare, with a shirtfront of rich blue to match Nines’s. Hank nodded apologetically at the receptionist as he and Gavin headed towards the main room.

Just then Gavin caught sight of his reflection in the window.

“Oh yeah, that would be thirium,” Hank volunteered as Gavin stood motionless, staring. “Don’t worry, it’ll evaporate soon and you won’t even have to bother trying to wash it out.” The f___ing heartless b______.

“Oh my G__,” Gavin breathed.

“Yeah, the miracles of science.” Hank didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“That’s _so much f___ing blood_ ,” Gavin murmured.

“Yeah.” Hank came around Gavin so they were standing face to face. “He got _shot_. In the _chest_.”

Gavin’s face flushed and Hank immediately tensed to counter a blow. He wasn’t prepared, though, for Gavin to burst into tears again instead.

“No one even told me! They sent you and Connor, why didn’t they send me? He was my _partner_!”

F___ this s___. What to say now? Hank awkwardly laid a hand on Gavin’s shoulder, aware that everyone else in the room—police and civilians alike—were staring at them.

“Are you sure he’d be exactly the same coming back?” Gavin asked between ragged breaths.

Hank weighed his words before letting them out.

“Apparently a few memories can get lost or corrupted in the process. But not a lot.”

“And he’ll still be deviant?”

A memory flashed unbidden into Hank’s mind: Connor standing in the snow outside Kamski’s house like a f___ing ghost. _My predecessor was unfortunately destroyed, but Cyberlife transferred its memory and sent me to replace it._ His voice more emotionless and mechanical than Hank had ever heard it. His face like a mask with nothing behind it.

“No, the software will all be new. You’ll have to start over with that.”

Gavin made a strange choking sound. “Oh no.”

“Gavin—”

“That’s my _friend_ , Anderson! He _can’t_ just have to start over like that!”

“Yeah, I actually get it, a______.” Hank felt the scowl deepening between his eyes.

“If they send a replacement I’m going to f___ing shoot it.”

“Been there, felt that,” Hank muttered.

“Oh G__, Hank, what am I going to do?”

…habit is a hard thing to break.

“ _I’ll_ tell you what,” Hank said, taking Gavin firmly by the shoulders and steering him back towards the door. “I’m sure Fowler will understand if we take the rest of the day off, and if he doesn’t, f___ him anyway. We’re going out for a drink.”

* * * * *

Connor found them sitting in the empty lot behind a cheap bar at 23:08:15 at night.

They were both drunk out of their minds.

He didn’t even need to scan them to find that out, since they both had their arms wrapped around each other. Gavin was sobbing loudly; Hank was snuffling and his eyes were red-rimmed. Their voices echoed against the walls of the surrounding buildings.

“I’mszorry I hated you, Gavin!”

Gavin shook his head into Hank’s shoulder.

“’S okay, Hank. I’m sorry Connor died last year.”

Hank burst into tears.

Connor wasn’t sure if he wanted to scan for BAC for either of them.

He decided that it wasn’t a good time to remind Hank of his promise to stop drinking on weekdays.

“Lieutenant!”

Both men turned and blinked up at him with glazed-over eyes. Hank was the first to recognize him.

“Cawner!” he exclaimed, astonishment and relief written across all his features. “You’re not dead! But you got shot so many times in the hallway!”

“That was months ago, Lieutenant.”

“Oh.”

Connor knelt down and helped sort out their tangle of limbs. Taking Hank under the arms, he dragged him into a standing position and made sure he was semi-steady on his feet before reaching down and pulling Gavin up as well.

“Well if you’re here, then who got shot today?” Hank slurred.

“That was Conan, the RK900. Who, incidentally, will be fine. They were able to stabilize him and ensure that all his software is intact.” Gavin’s weeping increased in volume. “The biocomponent that was shot will take a day or two to find a replacement for, so for now he is hooked up to a machine that will take its place until then.”

“And waddaboutchew, Connur?” Hank asked, swaying against Connor’s arm that supported his back.

Connor raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yeah,” Gavin hiccupped between sobs. “Hank said you gave your blood to Ninez to keep him alive or something.”

“I refilled my thirium levels to full capacity while I was at the facility.”

“Thanks,” Hank said.

A strange response, but of course he was drunk, so that was to be expected.

“I saw your car in the parking lot, Lieutenant,” Connor said. “I’ll drive you both home.”

“No thank you,” Hank retorted. But he didn’t resist when Connor guided him and Gavin toward the parking lot.

“I call shotgun,” Gavin announced tearfully.

/SHOTGUN >> PASSENGER’S SEAT, SYNONYM/

“You’ll sit in the back,” Connor stated.

A tear rolled down both sides of Gavin’s face.

“Aww, don’n cry, Reed,” Hank soothed drunkenly. “I’ll sit in the back with you.”

Why not.

Connor helped them both through the door and tried to pull the seatbelts across their laps. He gave up after a minute with no success. He would just drive carefully.

“What’s your address, Detective Reed?” he asked as he started the car.

“420 F___ Yourself Road,” Gavin sniffled.

Hank sputtered with laughter.

A moment’s search told Connor that this was not a real address.

“Your actual address, please, Detective. Where should I take you?”

“Oh juz leave him alone, Con,” Hank pleaded, wrapping his arms around the detective again. “His bezt friend got shotdoday.”

“Conan is going to be okay,” Connor stated wearily. “I said already, he will be as good as new within forty-eight ho—”

“Shut up, plastic p____!” came Gavin’s voice. “He got shot!”

“Hey!” Hank roared. “Don’t call Connor a p____!”

Connor was going to have to make a decision, quickly, before the men could come to blows.

/CALCULATING OPTIONS…/

/SELECTING OPTION/

Hank’s house was only a few blocks away.

Gavin could just sleep on the couch. It would only be for one night anyway.

* * * * *

Hank looked like death warmed up. F___ing drunk. Gavin knew he probably didn’t look too hot himself, but he was sure he at least looked better than Hank did.

The lieutenant shuffled unsteadily to the counter, squinting unattractively in the early daylight coming in through the window. His hand bumped into the toaster _and_ the knife block as he groped for the coffee pot. Connor, who’d been _standing in the kitchen corner overnight_ (weird as f___, that guy), stirred and intoned a calm “Good morning, Lieutenant” before he’d even opened his eyes.

“Morning, Connor,” Hank grunted back. “You want some coffee?”

“Yes, thank you.” Connor came to the living room now and opened the blinds.

S___, that was bright. Gavin winced and groaned as he leaned into the back of the couch, his eyes hidden in the crook of his elbow.

“What the f___, man?”

“Good morning, Detective.”

F___ing android.

After a minute Gavin let his arm slide away. It was still bright out there, but he struggled to his feet anyway and went into the kitchen where the other two were already sitting at the table. Connor had his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee.

“Seriously, Hank? Coffee? He’s an android, he can’t drink it.”

“I know. He just likes to hold it. Leave him alone.”

Gavin scowled and went to the counter to get a coffee for himself.

“It’s f___ing weird how you treat him, Hank. Like he’s a f___ing human.”

“Bold words coming from the man whose best friend is also an android.”

Gavin turned around—a little bit too fast, but a hand against the counter to steady himself and it was alright—and snapped, “He’s not my _best friend_ , Hank. You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“Yeah, right.” Hank drew out the syllables infuriatingly. “You literally said it to the bartend last night. ‘My best friend is dying, I want three shots.’”

Gavin hadn’t remembered saying that until Hank brought it up now. But he wasn’t about to give Hank the satisfaction of acknowledging that it had happened. Sullenly he turned back to the counter and finished filling a mug with coffee. There was a sort of hot stinging in his eyes which he decided to blame on the hangover.

It wasn’t fair. Hank had no idea what he was going through right now. _His_ android was sitting right there, without any bullet wounds or missing limbs or any of that s___. _His_ android hadn’t been brutally attacked in an alleyway the day before. _His_ android hadn’t been on the threshold of death and bled all over him. Gavin decided to mention this.

Hank stopped him just a few sentences in.

“No, you’re right, Gavin,” he retorted, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “I _don’t_ know. Connor has only _actually died once_.”

“Twice,” Connor said softly. He still had his hands around the coffee mug, the freak.

“Right, twice,” Hank corrected himself. “Once right in front of me.”

“So what?” Gavin challenged.

Hank stood up so fast his chair fell over, and he sprang at Gavin. There was a shout of “Hey!” from Connor, and if the android said anything else after that Gavin didn’t hear it, because his next coherent moment wasn’t until he felt Connor’s hand grasping the front of his collar, almost lifting him off the ground. The android was standing between Gavin and Hank, his other hand locked around Hank’s wrist, and there was a shrinking patch of exposed white plastic on the left side of his face where one of them had apparently just punched him.

Gavin hoped it had been Hank. It would serve Hank right. In any case, though, there was almost a look of regret on the lieutenant’s face as Connor released his wrist.

“Sorry, Connor,” he muttered, but he looked daggers at Gavin as he righted the tipped-over chair and sat down. Connor dragged Gavin to the other chair and pushed him down into it. There were a few seconds of tense silence and then Connor spoke.

“I assume I should tell Fowler that neither of you can come in to work today?”

“No!” Gavin shouted, in chorus with Hank.

“No, we’re…we’re coming in,” Hank said in a milder tone, apologetic again. For what, for scaring Connor by yelling? _Gavin_ wasn’t going to apologize.

But he _was_ going to go in to work, _even if_ Hank and his freaky a__, lucky a__ android were going to be there too.

* * * * *

SOFT REBOOT COMPLETE

ALL SYSTEMS ONLINE

G__, finally. According to the internal clock it had been 17 hours since he had gone into standby and he’d felt every minute of it.

Proximity systems were detecting something to his left. He opened his eyes.

It was…Gavin? _That_ was unexpected. They weren’t supposed to let unauthorized humans in here, and even if they did, Gavin was one of the last people Conan would have expected to come check on him. Yet here he was. He was sitting in a chair but he had his face buried in his arms, which were folded on the table where Conan was lying. His breathing pattern and heart rate indicated that he was most likely asleep, so Conan poked him in the head.

Gavin snorted and sat up clumsily. His eyes were red and his mouth hung open and he looked ridiculous. Several expressions crossed his face in less than a second, so quickly after the other that they overlapped, and he sputtered a couple of unintelligible noises.

“How you almost die on me, you selfish b______?” he burst out when his face had finally come to rest on something that was mostly anger, and he stood up quickly, pushing the chair back so that it squeaked against the floor. “You think I can just take that kind of treatment, after all I’ve done for you? F___ing…bleeding out in my arms on the street in front of half the DPD? Do you _want_ me sitting across from an empty desk again? You _want_ me _working alone_ again? Is that it?”

He was pacing back and forth now, shouting, not even looking at Conan. Conan sat up after carefully pushing aside the wires and tubes that ran between the machine to his left and the opened access port in his chest. Gavin was still ranting.

“I thought you were _gone_ and I went out and got drunk with Hank f___ing Anderson and you know how much I _f___ing hate_ Hank!”

Hank? That must have been an interesting night. Conan was sorry he had missed it.

“Was Connor there too then to make sure you didn’t murder each other?”

“No! He was still over here trying to make sure they didn’t replace your _sorry a___!”

Conan observed that there were tears in Gavin’s eyes. He must be really upset. It was probably time to deescalate the situation.

“Gavin, will you just sit down before you hurt yourself?”

“ _You_ sit down!” Gavin snapped, but he collapsed back into the chair, breathing heavily.

“I am literally already sitting down, idiot.”

Gavin was clinging to Conan’s arm and definitely crying now, tears snaking down both of his cheeks. G__, it was so new to see him like this.

“Gavin, are you _crying_?”

“N—no. _You’re_ crying.”

/SARCASM?/

/UNCERTAIN; ASSUME LITERAL/

“I’m not crying.”

“Shaddup!” Gavin tried to rub away the tear tracks on his face with the heel of his hand.

“Does Fowler know you’re here?”

Gavin sniffled and let out a hollow laugh. “He’s the one who told me to come.”

“Fowler?” _Captain Fowler_ had _told_ someone to take the day off? “How difficult were you being?”

Gavin was silent.

Probably pretty d___ difficult then.

“Didn’t Connor tell you I’d be okay?”

“Yeah, but I don’t trust that little a______.”

“How did you get in here?” Conan asked. “You’re not authorized.”

“Ah, they let me in when I applied a little pressure.”

“You threatened them?”

“Depends on how you define that.”

“Jerk.”

“Nerd.” 2.1 seconds of silence. “By the way, you look like a f___ing Frankenstein freak show exhibit with all those wires coming out of you.” Conan glanced down again. It didn’t look _that_ strange, did it? Maybe to a human it did, especially since the skin wasn’t able to bond with the uneven surface at the edges of the access port, but aside from that it didn’t look as bad as Gavin was making it out to be.

“It’s only temporary.”

“It had better be.”

5.3 seconds of silence this time. Then Gavin drew a deep breath.

“I f___ing hate you, bro.”

“Thanks. You too…bro.”

**Author's Note:**

> During late 2019 and early 2020, my friend Ruby and I would roleplay scripts for a post-canon AU-I-guess where a RK900 android got assigned as Gavin's partner after the android revolution. Ruby would roleplay the RK900 (we named him Conan because why not) and Gavin, and I would roleplay Connor and Hank; about half of this fic came from a couple of those roleplays, so I can really only claim authorship for about 3/4 of it.  
> Gavin and RK900's personalities and voices are Ruby's headcanons, Hank and Connor's are mine. It worked out great since she prefers a more sarcastic and human RK900 and I prefer a more robotic Connor, so we ended up with a nice balance of personalities.  
> The inconsistencies in what all the different characters call RK900 are COMPLETELY INTENTIONAL. Little bits of subtle character hints, I dunno, I had fun with jumping around between the different POVs in the different sections.


End file.
